There was a time when a heavy door had slammed shut in my life. Finality rang with its closing. Many visited over the following days: shock, denial, pain, and fear. One by one, they disappeared––no longer welcomed. But one tenacious visitor stayed. I did not bid it farewell. The longer it stayed, the more comfortable it became as a companion.

I walked with My Friend daily. He gently nudged me and asked about this newest companion.

"Oh, it's not really a problem." I answered. "I can handle it. It will leave fairly soon."

The new companion followed me everywhere. It accompanied me to work and made it difficult to concentrate. At home, its presence made me short-tempered and sarcastic with those I loved.

"No!" I refused. "I'm not ready for it to leave. I have a right for it to be here!"

It began to grow. It talked to me of past hurts and assured me that I had been a victim and treated unfairly. It reminded me of dreams that had died with the closing of the door. Each time we would commune, I became more dependent upon its strength. Though my back ached from its weight, yet, I carried the companion with me.

At times, I would refuse to meet with My Friend. I listened more to the companion's whispers.

Soon the load of the companion made it difficult to sleep at night. It gripped my heart, tangled my mind, jostled my emotions, and made me physically ill. It grew. It told me more. It said that my child would suffer; but that I would find rest and justice in revenge.

My Friend reminded me of His love and asked once again to take my burden. He told me that He only wanted the best for me, but that I needed to let go of the companion.

"You want the best for me?" I accused. "You could have kept that door from closing. Why didn't you stop it?"

"The one who closed it has free will. You know this to be true. But, I am able to take your burden...if you are willing to give it to me." My Friend's voice was tender.

"I can't let it go." I whispered.

Gradually, the mirror no longer reflected my image but that of the companion. Then one day, I looked into the face of my child and saw the companion there. I ran to My Friend.

"You were right!" I exclaimed "Oh, My Friend, please help me. I can't carry this any longer. But I don't know how to let it go."

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There were a few pronoun issues--if you wanted the reader to feel as if anger were truly a poor companion, it might have been best to use "him" or "her" rather than "it." Easier to sustain the metaphor that way.

Wowsers, though, your little essay sure hits the nail on the head! Lots of us have been there, that's for sure!

Wow. After reading this, I sat here and thought,"At one point in my life I could have written this. I wish I had." I didn't think about a critique of it. I was too engrossed in the message, in the personalities of the characters, of the writer being pulled in two directions. Only when the thought "the sins of the (parents) will be visited upon the children," did the writer see how devasting anger can be. You could teach a college course on this piece. It's brilliantly conceived and even more brilliantly written. Wow!

Isn't it funny how we seldom think we have a real problem with unpleasant emotions or how we handle situations until we see it reflected in our children? Then it seems appalling and obvious! I like that aspect of your story. The shame of seeing this anger issue in the child propelled your MC to make a change and finally let the Lord take this burden away.